


is bad luck really such a crime?

by scrapmetal



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: M/M, character tags will be added as they appear, just dads being dads, lots of references to boba being a clone bc fuck you, totally forgot to tag things WHOOPS
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:40:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26222026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scrapmetal/pseuds/scrapmetal
Summary: “Last I heard you were dead, Fett.”“I’m not falling in a sarlacc pit every time I’m out of your line of sight, you know. And I don't think anyone's thought I’ve died again. What am I going to have to do to get you to stop saying that every time I see you?"A long hunt with lots of time to think over rivalries and such.(Title from the song Catabolic Seed by The Scary Jokes)
Relationships: Boba Fett/The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)
Comments: 76
Kudos: 423





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> suddenly writing 40 year old boba after almost exclusively writing him as a 12 year old is a bit of a trip but i enjoyed the challenge. hope you all enjoy this :)

Working with Boba had always been strange, he was always the galaxy-feared bounty hunter Boba Fett, and Din was always just Mando. No name, just the armor. 

It's not like that wasn't what he wanted or anything-- he was _The Mandalorian_ , or at least the Mandalorian of that sector. But when there were two Mandos, well… You can't really be The Mandalorian if there was another one standing right next to you, flaunting the same armor, the same notoriety. Plus some, because having a name allowed Boba to gain galaxy-wide recognition. 

Maybe it should've been comforting to Din that no one really thought Boba was actually Mando? But even the idea of gaining comfort from that made Din feel like a total asshole. So he just let himself be overshadowed. It was fine. He didn't want fame anyways. Especially not when his ik’aad was _still_ being sought after by Imps, less persistently as of late, but the danger was still there. 

Either way, he and Boba had wound up in the same sector again, and somehow they were being paired together for another job. Din really didn't know why this kept happening, but he had a sneaking suspicion it was one of them who was pairing them up. And it wasn't Din. 

“Last I heard you were dead, Fett.” Din started, in lieu of a proper greeting. He didn't really have anything else to say to what he found in that cantina. 

It looked like Boba had finished the milkshake he was holding maybe half an hour before Din had arrived, but he still had it. Just so he could be annoying and slurp up the dregs through the straw sticking up into his helmet right when Din got close enough to hear. He also had his boots up on the table, casually, as if this were some small little get-together. His reputation was probably the only thing keeping him from being yelled at by the owner of the cantina. 

“I’m not falling in a sarlacc pit every time I’m out of your line of sight, you know. And I don't think anyone's thought I’ve died _again._ What am I going to have to do to get you to stop saying that every time I see you? I bought an entire milkshake! I don't even like blue milk!”

Din was sure Boba could read his bewilderment right off of him, but he was still grateful for his buy'ce. “...Were you just trying to get me to comment on… all this before I said the thing?”

Boba huffed and put his feet on the floor. “Yes! I'm convinced you don't have any other conversation starters. I'm terrified to think of what is in that bucket of yours.”

Din didn't want to admit that not knowing how to start conversations was exactly why he said the same thing to Boba every time they saw each other. That, and the fact it was funny. “It's probably better than what's up in your buy'ce. Are we going after this bounty or not?”

Din could see Boba's eyes roll by the way his head tilted up slightly. “Really don't understand why they needed both of us for this from the information we're given, so I'm expecting every detail in this puck to be incredibly inaccurate and that many hunters have died attempting to collect the bounty.”

“Alright, normal so far.”

“I don't think any of the information is salvageable, we're running completely off the fob. I feel like that's been increasingly common lately. No respect for the good old days before you could track a bounty through their genetic material.”

“You're making yourself seem old.”

Boba stood up with a shrug. “Just started early. We taking your ship or mine?”

“Mine,” Din answered, maybe a bit too fast. Boba had to know something about his kid, right? But then Din remembered the other reason why he kept on greeting Boba with that same line, because to that day he still heard people talk about Boba's “death” in the sarlacc pit like it was recent gossip instead of something that had happened about five years ago. Word traveled slow across the outer rim. 

Boba either didn't notice Din’s eagerness or didn't care. “Alright, the Razor Crest it is then. Did you name it that? Or did it come with the name? It sounds like a toothpaste brand… Not that there's anything wrong with that.”

Din decided not to respond to that. 

“Don't worry, I've heard some much worse names for much more important things. We can't all be great with names.”

Din liked to think he could never forget how talkative Boba was, but he did every time. The weird thing was that Boba wasn't talkative for everyone. For all Din knew, he was only talkative around him. Strange, but probably just another rivalry thing. The even weirder part was that Din got a bit more talkative back. 

“Is that why your ship is the Slave I? There aren't even any other ships with that model, right? Why's it Slave _One?”_

“Hey,” Boba warned, “my buir came up with that name.”

“Almost scared to ask about your own name then.” Din muttered. He knew he was hitting a nerve, but _come on,_ Boba had just left himself open for that one.

“...No comment.” Boba responded. And wasn't that something Din would absolutely latch onto. Ammo like that was something precious within this weird rivalry relationship they had. “Oh look! We're here. The Crest Razor, home of the mighty… Mandalorian whose name I definitely do not know.”

Din felt like ramming his head into the nearest wall because _holy fuck_ was Boba just laying it on hard today. The casualness. The little bit that always happened to come out when Din was around, the things you never saw in those weird fan holos on the new ‘net (which Din did _not_ watch to just laugh at the music choice). Rivalry. It was a terrible, terrible thing. 

The rivalry was so bad that Din had forgotten to tell Boba about his kid. The Razor Crest opened its hatch and there was the ik’aad, teething on their mythosaur pendant with a smug little look on their face, like they knew something like that was going to happen.

“You Found a baby and you didn't even tell me?!” Boba exclaimed, sounding both very offended and very excited. 

Whoops. 

Din picked up his ad as the two entered the ship and shrugged. “They weren't really relevant. Plus, I haven't been able to confirm or deny if they have any living, buir-worthy relatives that are missing them.”

Boba hummed, getting that I-grew-up-in-the-middle-of-things tone of voice he got when talking about things the Imps had all but erased from the outer rim. They could censor the holonet, but not the memories of those who lived in sectors deemed important enough to experience it. “I… don't think you'll have much luck with that. I heard you had some trouble with a bounty for Imperials a few months ago, didn't hear many specifics, but I'm assuming that was the kid?” 

Din frowned. “How'd you know?”

“Just a hunch.” The way he said it implied it was much more than a hunch, but Din didn't press. Boba never liked talking about his messy past with the Empire. “Do they have a name?”

As much as Din appreciated the subject change, he wasn't really looking forward to Boba's inevitable reaction to the answer to that question. “...No, I want to make sure that they don't already have a name first.”

“Or you just don't want things to turn out like Razor Crest. If you wait too long they'll just name themself, and you'll have to deal with whatever they come up with.”

Din frowned. “That doesn't sound too bad…” 

Boba laughed and gestured to the ladder up to the cockpit. Right, Din was flying. “You'd think!”

The kid scrambled up onto Din’s shoulder as he climbed the ladder, blissfully ignorant of the concept of names. 

“Boo! Boo!”

Din turned back slightly to see the kid reaching for Boba and chuckled. “Does he look like buir? I'm just right here, silly.”

“I dunno, I think they might just want _me_ to say the gai bal manda,” Boba joked, sitting on the chair usually reserved for bounties and spinning around in it. “They've already got Mando’kar! Out here ready to adopt me."

Din chuckled. “Well, I wouldn't mind if you said it. They clearly like you, and I don't think you'd be any worse of a buir than me.” Co-parenting friends weren't at all uncommon, at least within their culture, but the way Boba paused at that, right in the middle of trying to coax the kid into his arms, suggested that the offer was the last thing he expected. 

And then he seemed to choke on his own tongue, coughing for a good thirty seconds before managing to speak again. “Well- that- I… If I did that I guess I'd have to see you a lot more often than just once or twice a year for a job.” 

Din felt his cheeks warm in embarrassment. Somehow he'd forgotten… “I guess you would,” he said with a semi-forced chuckle. _Ka’ra,_ what a turn the conversation had taken. 

Before Din could even really comprehend that he'd started flying, they made it out into hyperspace. He probably shouldn't've been in the middle of a conversation when taking off, but they'd made it fine, so he got to turn around and see the kid shriek in laughter as Boba started ticking them in small bursts, vocoder switched off as he quietly talked to them. 

Din may have regretted suddenly springing the idea of co-parenting the kid with Boba so abruptly like that, but he didn't really regret the sentiment. It didn't really come completely out of nowhere, Boba had expressed once, very meekly but still earnest, that he eventually wanted to become a buir, and seeing him now… He seemed so happy with the kid. The kid seemed to trust Boba immediately, and Din had come to find that somehow they knew exactly who to trust. 

“How old are they? If you know?” Boba asked quietly. 

Din winced slightly. He didn't like thinking about that. “Fifty. His species ages differently, I guess.”

Boba hummed thoughtfully and looked down at the kid. “Older than everyone older than you, huh? A tough bit of bad luck right there, but it's not the worst lot to get.”

Din didn't know what that meant, but it was directed at the kid, so maybe he wasn't supposed to. “They've hit a bit of a growth spurt, I think. Not anything too huge, but they've definitely grown more in the last few months than you'd expect from the fifty years old thing. From what I've gathered they're still growing at a slower rate than a human, but it's a relief.”

Boba nodded. “I bet it is… So you're human?”

Din huffed, deflecting. “Are you?”

“It's been debated, but yeah,” Boba responded with an almost strained laugh. 

That set off alarm bells in Din’s head. Boba was always saying little things like this, worrying little jokes Din had no context to that alluded to a variety of issues he might have. Not that Din could really talk about having issues, he just didn't make almost self deprecating jokes about them in front of people who had zero context. 

“I just hope I'm around long enough to support them properly,” Din sighed, continuing to ignore the species question. “Maybe finding their people would be better off in the long run, they'll probably actually live to see the kid grow up.”

“If you give them up, you're just bringing on the inevitable sooner,” Boba said, very confident despite how fast the response came. “They're clearly attached to you. I mean, I've only been here for like fifteen minutes and I can see that. Don't diminish your importance in their life.”

Din digested Boba's words for a couple moments. It was a bit scary to think that the kid already thought of him so highly, but hadn't it not taken him long with his buir? And the loss of his parents was… 

“I can't believe I'm getting parenting advice from the galaxy's most infamous bounty hunter.” 

Boba dramatically rolled his head to emphasize the eyes rolling under his buy'ce. “Come on Din! If I Found a foundling I'd be the absolute best buir ever and you know it.”

Din froze in panic when he heard his name spoken. Then he realized that he gave Boba his name freely when they'd met because Boba refused to call him Mando. His name wasn't something Din heard outside the covert, but usually he didn't see Mando'ade outside the covert. 

“I don't know,” Din responded, pretending his minor freak out never happened, “I think the resident foundling would say otherwise.”

The kid giggled, looking up at Boba. Din wondered if they could tell with their magic what Din had said. It could also just be that they had been giggly throughout the entire conversation and that they were constantly peeking up at the new stranger in the ship.

“You spoil them! That's the only reason why. There would be extreme bias in the results of their diagnosis.” 

“You've only been here for fifteen minutes! How do you know I spoil them?”

Boba laughed. “I know you! You wouldn't be able to resist giving them whatever they want, you're soft like that.”

Din frowned slightly, making sure it didn’t reflect in his body language. Did Boba… Did he really know him? Did he even know Boba? He had never exactly been open at any point of his life, but after the purge, it had always been better to just...

Boba was probably just saying things, like he always did, and Din was overthinking. 

“Are you ever going to show me what’s actually on the puck?”

“Huh?” Boba looked up, surprised by the sudden change in subject. “Oh, yeah sure,” He threw the puck over. “Like I said, there's nothing too helpful on it. We’re better off just following the fob.”

Din quickly scrolled through the information on the puck. On the surface it looked fine, but Boba was right. A few of the points subtly contradicted themselves, the “last known location” was on the other side of the galaxy from where the fob was leading them, and the holo..?

“This Rodian looks like a 10 year old.”

“Yeah, the Togruta in her 40s listed in the actual puck is a bit more likely. Bet they just added a random holo just so they could pay less.”

“I wonder who this kid is,” Din mused, staring at the holo.

“What, you looking for another foundling?”

Din shut off the holo, ignoring the fact that he'd been wondering about the kid’s quality of life and what had gotten their holo on a bounty hunting puck. 

“Shut up, Fett.”

Boba just laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please leave a comment if you have any thoughts in your brain. 
> 
> Mando'a translations:  
> ik'aad- baby (usually aged 0-3)  
> buy'ce- helmet  
> buir- parent  
> gai bal manda- mandalorian adoption ritual  
> ka'ra- stars  
> mando'ade- Mandalorians, children of Mandalore


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all sooo much for the support for this fic!! definitely was not expecting so much, i appreciated all of your wonderful comments even if i didnt reply to them i am rereading them frequently :)  
> also just a heads up! this first bit of the fic is going to be a bit oc heavy just because i don't want to step on the toes of the actual show... especially with season two coming out so soon. i'm playing a dangerous game here.  
> ALSO a lot of the stuff i have in my head for boba's backstory is not at all what happened in legends. i read his legends wookieepedia page and didn't like a lot of it. not much of his backstory comes up here, but i wanted to also give a heads up about that so you aren't confused about wtf is happening with him.

Boba didn’t know what was up between him and Din, but he was glad he’d achieved one of the life goals he’d come up with while dying in the sarlacc pit. That being establishing a friendship with someone that _wasn’t_ part of the meager percentage of his family that had been spared from the clutches of the Empire. He thought he was doing pretty well for himself post near-death experience, something about almost dying to your own apathy seemed to kick things back into perspective. 

If Boba pulled a few strings to make sure he teamed up with Din once and a while well… He was just listening to his therapist and putting himself out there. Din didn't seem to mind after the first time anyways, and that job had just come together out of chance. 

There was no doubt that their bounty knew that a hunter was coming. Whoever their client was had a lot more money than the shoddy information on the puck suggested, obvious by the inflated price on the bounty’s head and the fact that both Boba and Din had been contacted directly about the bounty. That guild agent’s cut must’ve been huge if he was that eager to get the job done. Boba was fine ignoring the fact that the job had the New Republic’s fingerprints all over it if they were going to continue to ignore the fact that they secretly hired bounty hunters. 

Din loved his fobs, but he at least had the decency to start the job with some traditional information gathering instead of just making a beeline towards the bounty and probably lots of resistance. Boba really didn’t have anything against fobs, but it was fun to think about how useless they’d be for any poor hunter sent to collect any hypothetical bounties on his head. Would the Guild attempt to get a biological sample off him to make the fob, or would they realize that the entirety of his DNA was practically public domain and very easily accessible? Either way, the fobs they made with it would be tracking at _least_ tens of people at once. 

Going to the nearest cantina just to scope things out was good news for Din’s kid anyways, they got to stretch their legs and eat something other than ration bars. Boba didn’t blame Din at all for the kid’s diet, but even on Kamino the slop the others got was better than just _ration bars._ That diet had come later for the others. The three sat at a booth, Din with his kid on his lap, happily eating bone broth, and Boba just across from him.

The cantina seemed pretty empty for the time of day, but the longer Boba watched, the more he realized that the place probably just never saw much traffic. There was surprisingly little fuss over two hunters suddenly appearing, perhaps the bounty hadn’t moved much and all the previous hunters all passed through the place. 

“Behind you,” Din said casually, barely gesturing to a more specific location. Boba’s head shifted slightly so the 360° camera linked to his HUD allowed him to see something other than the back of the booth they were sitting in. 

“That's the kid from the holo! The rodian!” Boba was legitimately surprised, he had suspected from the beginning that the holo was just some attempt at filler, but if it was _actually relevant_ , it was a good lead.

Din scanned the room around them. “Ni ven’jorhaa’i at kaysh.”

Boba nodded, it was probably a good idea for him to confront the kid, even if the holo was just a coincidence. 

“Tion’lise ni olaro balyc?” Boba asked.

Din huffed quietly. _Of course you can come, idiot,_ the subtle shake of his head seemed to say, _you don't need to ask._ Though if Din were to actually vocalize any of that, it would probably just be a one word confirmation and not the strangely intimate sentence Boba had constructed. But who knew! Anything was possible, apparently, because Din had been getting maybe-flirty with Boba earlier that day that one time. Which was way too much to think about while in the middle of a hunt. 

Din just got up and walked over to the kid from the holo, bringing his own oblivious little monster with him. Boba followed as casually as he could. Being in full beskar'gam was not subtle, so subtlety had never really been an option for either of them, but Din was still very direct when he did things. It sometimes came off as overconfidence, but Boba knew from the times he’d worked with him that Din knew his limits.

The rodian kid didn’t look too phased by the sudden appearance of two Mandalorians suddenly approaching them, they just continued to eat the fruit in their hand. It reminded Boba of himself at that age, which was a bit worrying, because at that age Boba was starting his career in bounty hunting and incredibly traumatized by the death of his buir. 

“You’re looking for that bounty, right?” the kid asked. 

Din skipped the pleasantries and brought out the puck. “This was the holo that was given to us.”

The kid froze as they saw themself mirrored in the holo. “You think _I’m_ who you’re looking for? I’m nine! Why the kriff would they want a nine year old? It isn’t me!”

“We don’t think it’s you!” Boba said hurriedly, kneeling somewhat to try to comfort the kid. “You’re okay, ad. You aren’t in trouble. We just want to know if you're connected to this.”

The kid looked at Boba with mild confusion and Din seemed to quietly be laughing at him. Maybe he’d ruined his reputation, but at least he had calmed down the kid somewhat.

“You're probably looking for my auntie Mylta, hunters have been coming after her for weeks. This is the first time anyone's recognized me from the puck though, and I come here often to watch the hunters pass through. They must’ve added the holo recently.”

“Well you sold her out fast,” Boba said before thinking. 

The kid contemplated the fruit they were holding, delicately poking it with their long tongue a few times. “That's ‘cause I want someone to catch her.”

Boba didn't like where this was going. “She isn't your guardian, is she?”

“Whadaya mean?”

“Like, it's not just her that takes care of you, right?”

“I never knew my parents, ‘n my uncle, her husband, disappeared last year. I was actually related to him… uh I guess she does then? But she just lets me do whatever. I don’t like her.”

Boba sighed inwardly and felt Din’s hand comfortingly pat him on the back. Bastard wasn't helping at all. 

“You're coming with us.” Boba said, because of course he did. “For information and stuff.”

The kid’s snout lifted in what Boba could only assume was a smile. “Cool! I'm Gigi. Your partner’s baby is cute.”

Boba froze at Gigi’s words, but Din didn't seem phased at all. He just thanked Gigi and brought his kid down closer to them so the two could officially meet. It took about a minute of standing around like an overloaded droid for Boba to remember that partner was not, in fact, a strictly romantic term, and that he and Din were technically partners, as in they were hunters working together to hunt the same bounty. Boba had just got it into his stupid head that maybe Din _liked_ him or something and now he was looking into everything. Which was exactly what he needed. 

“I don't think this place has any more clues, at least more than anything you can tell us, Gigi.” Boba said, mostly for their sake, because Din looked to be about ready to go regardless. 

“I'll put the kid to bed, then.” Din added, turning to leave. “And hopefully they'll actually go to sleep.”

Boba nodded. The cantina was just a preliminary step. The hunt was now on.

* * *

“I'm going on an adventure with Boba Fett! I'm gonna beat up my auntie!”

Maybe Din had to change his kid's diapers and all that, but Gigi's singing was going to drive Boba insane. Because the longer she was around, the more Boba accepted the fact that he probably had a foundling now. His therapist would be very pleased, and he would probably be pleased too if he was not currently having a crisis about suddenly becoming a buir and having to deal with very loud singing. 

Boba sighed. “How'd you even figure out who I am anyways? Not as many people recognize me after I switched out my paint job, and I don't think you're one of those weird holonet stalkers I have.”

“You changed your armor color?” Gigi asked, surprised. “All the holos I've ever seen of you haven't had color capacity so I just knew what you looked like from that. What was the paint like before?”

Boba shrugged. They were just following the fob at that point, which Gigi claimed was pointing to where her aunt always hung out. It wasn’t far enough away to consider hiring a speeder, but still, there was a lot of walking.

“I mostly just switched out the green for orange when repainting it. Also it's a lot less scratched up now.”

Gigi frowned. “Green? You should paint it blue, so we match. And your friend should be the green one, so they match with their kid.”

“Blue’s a… Nice color,” Boba responded tiredly. He didn't want to think past that. 

“Armor color has meaning,” Din interjected, saving Boba's entire life. “Green means duty, orange is shereshoy which means… Lust for life? Wanting to make sure you live well? Not quite sure how to say it in Basic.”

Gigi perked up at that. “Oh! What's blue mean? My scales are blue, and scales are basically mini plates of armor so…” 

“Blue’s reliability,” Boba said, lost in nostalgia. “It's a good color for you.”

“Why did you switch color schemes?” Din asked, “If you're comfortable sharing.”

Boba wasn't really expecting the question to come from Din. With a few exceptions, they'd both been dancing around personal questions the entire time they'd known each other. Boba didn't really think he minded the change that seemed to be happening though. 

“Almost dying was kind of a wake up call for me. I hadn't really picked green exclusively for its meaning, it’s just kind of a nice color, but duty just felt so shallow after that. Almost dying made me realize how much I wanted to live, and how I wanted to live a good life. Shereshoy... Hence the orange.”

Din nodded. “I still need to figure out how I want to paint my beskar pieces.”

“Not going for red again?” Boba asked. 

“I might, I just want to make sure I get it right.”

Boba nodded slowly. “Makes sense. You look good in the shiny stuff anyways.”

“...Thank you.”

Was that embarrassment Boba heard in Din’s voice? Boba hadn't even realized he'd given him a compliment like that until he heard the response. He let himself imagine that maybe that's what it was. 

“What's red mean?” Gigi asked, blissfully ignorant of Boba's dumb thoughts. 

“Honoring a parent.” Din responded, his choked voice almost masked by his vocoder. Almost. Maybe Boba wasn't the only one with a complex history with armor color, what a concept. 

The three kept walking, and Gigi gained a bit of a skip in her step as she began to recognize her surroundings. They were getting close to a warehouse, and Gigi was cheerfully pointing out all the probably dangerous things she did around the complex. 

The fob seemed to agree with the sentiment that Mylta was in the warehouse, and Boba let himself think that catching up with the bounty would be the easy bit. Which was a mistake, because suddenly the beeps made by the fob became less frequent. Mylta was on the move. Away from them. 

“There she is!” Gigi yelled, pointing at a figure quickly racing out of the complex on a speeder. “Why's she leaving?”

Boba tried his best to memorize Mylta’s silhouette from the glimpse he'd got of her. She was togrutan like the puck stated, at least, and the shape of her montrals was distinct enough that Boba thought she'd be fairly easy to distinguish even in a crowd full of togrutas, which was probably not something they'd have to deal with. 

“Do you know what this place is, Gigi?” Boba asked patiently. 

“This is where her office is! She’s always just hidden in here, I don’t know why she left. She does a lot of holo meetings all the time so she always says that the galaxy was her office.”

“I don't think she knows what that phrase refers to,” Boba muttered to himself. “Do you think she knew we were coming?”

“Oh, she always knows when hunters come! Usually she stays here to deal with it though.” 

Well _that_ was something. Boba turned to Din, who looked to be doing something with his HUD.

“You think she bugged all the cantinas or something?”

Din didn't answer, whatever he was doing up in his bucket seemed to be taking up all his focus. Instead, Gigi raised her hand excitedly, and Boba nodded at her request to speak, a bit confused. 

“That's why I'm at the cantinas all the time, I check on all her little cameras and she gives me credits so I can get lunch at one of them. I don't think anyone's ever suspected anything.”

Everything Boba learned about Gigi seemed to be conspiring against him. He sighed, and thanked her for the information.

“Found out more about this place,” Din announced, done with what Boba realized was probably research. “The logo on everything is for some mining company. Apparently they popped up shortly after the fall of the Empire, and they've bought up quite a lot of resources from imperial remnants, and I think they've bought a few of the actual remnants? Anyways, it looks like they're building a sort of empire of their own. They have no listed CEO and they practically popped up out of nowhere. Mining operations don't really pop up out of nowhere.”

“So our bounty is probably a higher up in a mystery company? Fun. I _love_ capitalists.”

Gigi raised her hand again but didn't wait for Boba's nod to begin speaking. “Auntie always talks about how she's so important all the time and that she makes all the rules and everyone needs to listen to her. She says it a lot to me but I think she's talking about work too.”

“That's good to know, thank you.” Din said softly, resting a hand on Gigi's shoulder. “The New Republic recently banned trading with them in their sectors, but there's not too much they can do to enforce that completely. They might be looking for a more direct approach,” 

“That's a lot of the client motives you've figured out there, Guild boy.” Boba said with a laugh. “Glad I'm not the only one who could tell those idealists were behind the bounty though. Even with whatever they've added to the original price on this shabuir’s head they're really underpaying for a goddamn millionaire CEO like this.”

Din shrugged. “The whole no asking questions thing has… gotten me in trouble recently. And money's money, things are getting tight now that I have another mouth to feed. Can't imagine you've suddenly risen above post near-death debt in the last half a year.”

Boba made a mental note to never admit his financial struggles while fearing for his life. He didn't think luck was on his side with that at all, considering the fact that he might suddenly gain another mouth to feed after this hunt. Unplanned orphan adoption was going to suck him dry. 

* * *

Stealing speeders was relatively easy, especially since Boba felt no remorse about stealing them directly from their bounty. Guilt was not a productive emotion in his line of work and it was nice when he was able to avoid it. 

The hard part came with the fact that Mylta was not stopping. At all. She was in a nice wide speeder with proper seats. Din and Boba both had bikes. Speeder bikes were usually faster, they were smaller and more aerodynamic, but the bounty was prepared, apparently. And Gigi had a small bladder, so they stopped quite a few times. 

When the two hunters and their sleepy little Gigi finally caught up with Mylta’s speeder, they'd burned through half of that planet’s day. Boba vaguely remembered something about how humans evolved partially to become persistence hunters. Did Togrutans have even more persistence? Boba didn't think they'd evolved as foragers at all, just hunters. But what did he know? Mostly that he was tired and that riding a speeder bike all day killed his legs. This was all starting to feel like a trap, which Boba didn't appreciate, especially since it kind of ruined his reputation of being impossible to deceive. 

“Stay with the bikes,” Boba murmured to Gigi. She was half asleep anyways.

When Gigi nodded, Boba left her to join Din. He didn't especially like having to leave her behind, but it would be better than bringing her. Things would get violent no matter what. 

The area around the parked speeder seemed to be some sort of abandoned little city, cracked concrete suddenly broke the wild plains they'd been speeding through all day. It was somewhat unnerving, the warehouse they'd passed through had seemed out of place on the planet with its industrialized fare, but that seemed to be a recent invasion made by the mining company. This was old enough to be ruined, and Boba idly wondered about its origins. That wasn't very productive though, so Boba attempted to focus on the bits that suggested the place wasn't completely abandoned. Someone was doing something there, maybe not living, but the ruins had been touched. And Boba had a hunch that Mylta had a reason to come to the place. 

“That's probably her ship. Looks like she might have a side job smuggling.” Din pointed to a large durasteel fin pointing up above some sort of diner looking place, all ransacked and defunct. Boba had no idea how Din got smuggling from just a fin, but he'd never been much of a ship guy. All he needed to know was how to keep the Slave going. 

Boba wasn't just about to admit his lack of knowledge though. “Or she just has no taste.”

Din gave a small laugh and they kept moving, Boba smiled a dumb smile no one could see as he followed. 

Mylta was waiting for them, right outside her ship, presumably ready to slip out of their fingers at any moment. 

“You know, I could pay you both double what they’re offering for me, but you two look too far in it to accept that.”

Boba huffed. That was one way to say their reputations as reliable hunters would be tarnished and careers ruined, but at least Mylta seemed self aware while making the offer. Almost every bounty made it. 

The three just stood there for a small moment, waiting for the first move. And then Boba realized something. 

“You _really_ think you can beat us in a fight!” Boba said, laughing in surprise. “Why the fuck do you think that?”

Mylta looked somewhat offended. “I have tricks up my sleeve.”

Boba sighed. He wasn’t being overconfident, he was just right. Mylta must’ve had something going for her other than too much money if she was able to take out the hunters that had come after her before, but _two Mandalorians?_

They needed Mylta alive, she was less than worthless dead, because if they killed her the client would back out and the Guild agent would probably demand that they compensate for whatever their client had promised him. So, Din took out a vibroknife and Boba attempted to crack his knuckles. Which he had never been able to do. He was preparing for an unarmed attack though. 

Before either of them could completely wreck Mylta’s shit, something barreled towards her, and Boba's heart sunk when he realized what it was. _Who_ it was. 

Gigi yelled as she threw herself at Mylta, fists raised and aimed directly at her aunt’s face. Mylta was indeed caught off guard by the sneak attack, but unfortunately it's very easy to recover from the attack from a random nine year old. 

“The fuck are you doing, Greeta? Why're you here, brat?” Mylta hissed as she grappled with Gigi, grabbing the kid's wrists and holding her tight up against herself. 

“Hey! Asshole! Don't let a kid get in the way of this,” Boba warned, “let her _go_.”

Mylta seemed to come to a realization, and Boba was starting to regret how he'd worded that. Mylta's front lekku snaked around Gigi's shoulders, and she snuck her own vibroknife out of a pocket and held it up at Gigi's neck. 

“I never believed the rumors of the Mandalorian soft spot, but I guess I overestimated you… You especially, Fett. You aren't even one of them, are you? And yet here we are!”

Boba brought out a blaster and Mylta's knife started to barely dig into Gigi's neck. She was crying now, her breaths quick and panicked.

“Now you're going to let me off this useless planet, or she dies. Good plan?”

Boba didn't move. Mylta slowly made her way into her ship. 

Boba didn't move. The ship took off. 

Boba didn't move. 

Boba didn't know what to do. He could barely comprehend what had just happened. Gigi was gone so fast, she would've been more gone if Boba had tried to do anything about it. It'd been a long time since Boba had been in a hostage situation like that, and usually he could actually get away with killing the fucker who had a knife at someone's throat. 

Boba barely registered Din’s hand on his shoulder. 

“You'll get her back. I'm fine with risking the bounty for her.”

Boba sighed. “I'm not going to ask you to do that, Din. We both need the money and we both do _not_ need that debt from the Guild agent. It's my fault for getting so damn attached in the first place.”

Din huffed. “You're such a hypocrite.”

Boba spun around to face him. “What??”

“Well, maybe not a hypocrite,” Din elaborated, “but you really aren't taking your own advice.”

“Still have no idea what you're talking about.”

“When I told you I didn't know if I should keep my kid, you told me I was important to them already. I'm pretty sure the womp rat imprinted on me the moment he saw me. You didn't get attached too fast because that's not a thing. Gigi's a nine year old with an abusive shabuir of a ba’vodu as a guardian and you're thinking about your attachment to her?”

Boba wanted to rub his face. “Fuck, you're right. I'm sorry.”

Din shrugged. “We have a long ride back to my ship. I'll see if I can accept your apology after that.”

Boba laughed a bit at that. There was still a large pit of guilt settled in his stomach, but Din was right. They just had to make sure they could get Gigi back. Thankfully, they had a fob leading straight towards her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> boba adopting gigi immediately is a direct parallel to me making her up for the one off joke about the holo being wrong in the last chapter and then getting immediately attached to her as a character. i have also adopted her. (and YES her full name is greeta. i fully blame my friend tristan for bullying me into that)  
> asking for comments last chapter worked so here's a reminder that if you leave a comment on this chapter i will give you a big (digital) kiss on the cheek
> 
> mando'a translations:  
> Ni ven’jorhaa’i at kaysh.- I'm going to talk to them.  
> Tion’lise ni olaro balyc?- Can I come too?  
> buir- parent  
> shereshoy- lust for life (and much more - uniquely Mandalorian word, meaning the enjoyment of each day and the determination to seek and grab every possible experience, as well as surviving to see the next day - hanging onto life and relishing it. An understandable state of mind/emotion for a warrior people. Closely related to the words for live, hunt and stay safe - and, of course "oya". All from the same root.)  
> shabuir- motherfucker  
> ba'vodu- aunt/uncle


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> din in the season two trailer: wherever i go, he goes  
> me, having just released chapter two, in which din leaves his kid in the razor crest bc i figured he would try to keep them safe: FUCK
> 
> this chapter's a bit shorter than usual, sorry about that! school had been kicking my ass for a few weeks while i was writing but now i'm out of there so maybe expect more stuff from me? no promises though.

When Din had left the Razor Crest that morning, he couldn't've imagined just how _long_ the hunt would end up being. And they didn't even catch their bounty. 

Din’s kid was waiting for him, standing behind the Crest’s closed hatch for who knew how long. Din scooped them up the moment he saw them, muttering some incoherent apology as he carried them to his small room. It wasn't much more than a cot, but it had a door, so Din could achieve a bit of privacy. He took off his buy’ce and took a deep breath, letting some relatively fresh air clear his head. After the purge there was a good point of time where _no one_ saw his face, but now he had a clan of two. 

Din allowed himself only a few minutes to rest. He had to pilot, after all. And his kid was pulling at his hair a bit too hard, so it was time to put the buy'ce back on anyways. He strode out into the hull, feeling a tiny bit more refreshed, and then he saw Boba holding a datapad, his buy’ce hooked up to it and sitting on the table beside him. 

Which meant his face was bare. 

Din looked away as soon as his brain caught up to the situation, dread pooling in his stomach. Did Boba assume Din would be in his room for longer? Did he forget he wasn't on his own ship? Maybe Boba _wasn't_ under the same code as Din, like he had assumed, but usually Mando'ade who weren't had their buy'cese off more than they had them on. Boba wasn't ever seen in public with his face bare, which suggested the stricter code Din was raised with. Din felt his insides burn. He'd seen something he wasn't supposed to. He was now the reason Boba had to leave it all…

“Oh! Din, I'm- you can look, Haat Mando’ad, not of Morut’droten.” Boba sounded legitimately embarrassed about the mixup, and as Din turned back to look at him, he looked pretty embarrassed too. 

And he looked… Well. Din had never expected he'd ever get to see Boba's face, so he hadn't really formulated any expectations for the real thing to match up to, but. Din still felt like he was intruding. Boba's long black hair was up in two braids that ran up along his skull and were pinned up so they didn't fall past his buy'ce. It seemed to be a style of practicality more than anything else, and Din vaguely wondered if he let it down during longer periods of time where he kept the helmet off. Din wanted to make a comment about his mustache and maintaining appearances under the buy'ce despite no one really ever seeing, but that still felt like a bit too much information to be sharing. 

Boba gestured for Din to join him at the table, and so he did. As the two sat together silently, Din wondered just how many people knew what Boba looked like, despite him not technically needing to keep his face covered. Boba's dark brown eyes were mostly engrossed in whatever he was reading, but occasionally he'd look up at Din. Every time he made eye contact with Boba, Din started to think he might have _feelings_ for Boba, like, romantic ones. The realization almost made him dizzy, so he pushed it aside to continue functioning at least a bit. Boba's face was worn, his warm brown skin pockmarked with small scars and a few lines that showed his years, but he smiled lazily every time he took a peek at Din. Just resting, recovering from the mess. 

The longer Din stared at Boba's face though, the more it became oddly familiar, like he had been plucked from an old childhood dream. Maybe that meant something. It was a silly idea, soulmates were made, not found, but Din couldn't help but imagine that somehow he'd known what Boba looked like this whole time. Like he'd known Boba before he was even born, maybe. 

“It's strange, you almost look familiar,” Din said quietly. 

Boba's smile slowly faded and his eyes became clouded by some sort of old sadness. He put away the datapad, unplugging it from his buy'ce, and put the helmet back on, acting like he was done with whatever he was doing. It was spontaneous enough for Din to suspect that Boba wasn't in fact done though, and Din wondered quietly if he'd done something wrong. 

“That's… Strange. I've never heard that before,” Boba responded, speaking just as slow as he had put back on his helmet.

Maybe Boba was afraid that his face had been leaked. It was a valid fear, Boba occupied a strange space of celebrity where he wasn't liked by most but still there were a concerningly large number of people on the holonet that were absolutely obsessed with him. Especially with the newfound freedom the New Republic’s holonet brought. Both of them had gone through the forums together before, laughing at the broken attempts at Mando’a, the insistence that he was _not_ Mando and only _fake fans_ believed he was, and the holo edits of cobbled together leaked security footage with music pasted over it. If Boba’s face had been leaked, Din could’ve spotted it on there, but also Din would think Boba would’ve heard. And seen. The forums were strangely addicting, like watching a speeder crash, except if the speeder was driven by a fetishtic stalker. 

Boba’s reaction didn’t really matter, Din probably should’ve kept the comment to himself.

“You don’t like droids because of the Clone Wars, right?” Boba asked after just allowing the awkwardness to settle in between them for a few minutes. The question was almost too casual.

Din froze at the sudden question. “Something like that,” he replied slowly. He was on his guard, but Boba seemed to be trying to be careful with his words. Even if it wasn't really working. 

“How did you feel about the other side of things?”

“The republic?” Din guessed with a frown. He didn't know why Boba didn't just say what he meant in the first place. 

“The clones.”

“Oh,” Din had no idea where this was coming from, but perhaps Boba was just caught up in nostalgia. Nostalgia for a time when he showed his face more regularly, or maybe Din was just projecting. “Well, I don’t know. Maybe they were the first sign that the Republic was going to decline into an empire. No one really questioned why there was an entire army of slaves suddenly, and no one questioned why they were so quickly replaced. Maybe that’s all easier to see now that we know where it led to… I was just a kid at the time anyways.”

“So was I…” Boba responded, lost in thought. “I knew a few clones. Back in the day.”

Din could tell there was more to that statement than Boba let on, and he didn't really know how to approach that. “...Were they nice?”

“They were people,” Boba said after a bit of thought. “I think that might be the most important part.”

Din frowned. “Why are you… Asking me this? Telling me this?” 

Boba went still. “I'm… _Ka'ra_ , I don't like talking about this. The clones… They were- they _are_ important to me. I don't know. I just want to know if I can trust you?” 

Din tried desperately to put together what any of that _meant_. Was Boba… Raised by clones or something? If he was a kid during the Clone Wars it was possible, but. Nothing was really adding up.

Maybe analyzing everything like that was exactly what Boba didn't want Din to do. 

“You can trust me,” Din said, barely more than a whisper, barely believing himself. 

Boba was silent for a good while, completely still, like he had been caught doing something humiliating.

“Forget it,” he finally responded. 

“Boba…”

“I said _forget it_.”

Din sighed silently, ”I trust you, Boba. And I don't care if you have problems trusting me, that's understandable. But I want to at least… _Attempt_ to express that I won't hurt you with what you share during vulnerable moments.”

Din could feel Boba staring at him. Thinking. Then he just picked his datapad back up and started scrolling, acting like Din hadn't said anything. 

“Found out something interesting about our friend Mylta.”

Din held back from sighing yet again. Boba was deflecting. Of course he was. Din had just said he was fine with Boba having trust issues, but he also thought he was _getting_ somewhere with that. Apparently not. He wouldn't bother Boba though, if he wanted to be aggravating Din would let him. 

“What's that?” Din asked.

Boba seemed to relax a bit at Din’s response, and Din felt a bit guilty for getting so annoyed at the deflection, Boba had probably been feeling a bit cornered. 

“Not good news! I had the foresight to snap a few holos with my buy'ce while we were just kinda staring at her, and so I was able to do some facial recognition shit with them. Found out she isn't named Mylta, unsurprisingly, but her true identity? It's… Tossia Fynsi. If you don't know, she's the-”

“The imp aruetii that oversaw the mining of beskar in the Mandalore Sector that had been pushing for the Empire to _do something_ about the Mando’ade for years before the Great Purge?” Din shot back a bit harsher than he intended. “Why the fuck wouldn't I know about her?”

Boba recoiled visibly. “I- well. You've always been on the other side of the galaxy from Manda’yaim, and you often don't know too much about what happens too far outside the nearest sectors. And I only really know about it because I was… Hired by imps a lot back then.”

“No one else told you?” Din asked, somewhat apologetic.

“My vode are just as isolated as I am, I don't know what news travels far in Mando circles and what doesn't.” 

Din nodded silently. “I'm sorry, sometimes I forget not every Mando outside the sector has a covert.” Not that he had one anymore, but that was beside the point.

And… Boba only rarely talked about his vode, and only very nebulously, but they seemed to be the only family he had. No buire, no ade, just vode. And he had never included details about their lives like that aside from one off remarks. What he had said seemed much more revealing than that, so maybe Boba was starting to trust Din more than the previous conversation suggested.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [here's a link to a drawing i made of boba in the time period of this fic!](https://alkahestric.tumblr.com/post/630009476980883456/sometimes-you-just-gotta-design-a-post-sarlacc) his hair isn't up even thought it probably should be but shh.
> 
> Mando'a translations:  
> buy'ce- helmet  
> Mando'ade- Mandalorians  
> Haat Mando'ad- True Mandalorian,  
> Morut'droten- The Tribe, lit. translated to "haven people"  
> ka'ra- stars (ancient Mandalorian myth - ruling council of fallen kings)  
> aruetii- traitor, foreigner, outsider  
> Manda'yaim- Mandalore  
> vode- siblings  
> buire- parents  
> ade- children


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're past the 3 chapter mark! which might not mean anything to anyone other than me but i've abandoned way too many fics on the third chapter. i doubt that's going to happen with this though, it's really been the one of the only things i've been wanting to write recently lol. this chapter's about the same size as the last one, which is a tad short for me, but i'm pretty sure you'll all think it's worth it with the next chapter :)

If Boba hadn't just been on one of the most tedious hunts of his life, he knew he wouldn't've been able to sleep that cycle. He didn't know what the fuck he was doing when it came to Din, and his brain wouldn't shut the fuck up about it. What had he been thinking? Bringing up clones? Vode? The past? Taking off his buy’ce had been more to test the waters than anything else, but he still wasn’t quite sure how that test exactly went.

That strange conversation left Boba reeling even as he woke up and prepped for the second leg of their chase. He didn't know how Din would react if he found out Boba was a clone, and he really didn't want to find out. Maybe he was spoiled, selfish, not a lot of his vode had ever had a chance to hide the fact that  _ they  _ were clones, Boba had just happened to outlive most of them. 

Sometime in the middle of Boba's sulking, Din’s kid found him. They just stared up at him for a bit before reaching their hands out. 

“Sick of your buir, hmm? Don't blame you,” Boba said absently as he picked the toddler up. “You force sensitive like that other green guy? He looked a bit like you.”

The kid just giggled and Boba sighed. It'd been a long time since the Jedi Order. It'd been a long time since Boba thought about the force with any regularity. But there must've been a reason the empire wanted the kid, and Boba didn't think a little green baby was of much use to them otherwise. 

Boba had no proof that remnants wanted the kid in order to clone them, but naturally, that's where his mind drifted. Kamino might've fallen out of relevancy as of late, but it wasn't Alderaan. Did the imps know that the force sensitivity of clones had nothing to do with the force sensitivity of their prime? Probably not. Outside closed doors in Kamino and a few lucky clones, no one knew. 

The kid didn't know about anything though. Which must've been nice. Boba held them in his lap and replaced his dark thoughts with more useful things. 

“I've never been your age,” Boba started lazily, acutely aware that he was talking to himself more than the kid, “but I've been in an… Arguably similar position. Little baby Boba's older than all their vode. It's not the easiest thing, but there's ways to deal.”

The kid stared up at Boba intently, and even though Boba was pretty sure the force was not able to bypass the child’s inability to comprehend language, he wasn't certain about it. 

Boba ignored his own speculation and let one of the kid’s tiny hands grip his pointer finger. “Once you get a bit more talkative, you're going to have to remember that just because you're older than your buir doesn't mean you're older than him.”

“Boo!” The kid repeated excitedly, throwing their hands up.

Boba smiled. Force or not, they  _ were  _ starting to learn to speak. “You sure do love your bu, don't you?” He sighed. “Kids your age are going to be… Well, they don't have your time yet, so be a bit patient. You're a baby, but I'm sure you've picked up lotsa little tidbits over your fifty years that'll put you in a weird place. People chronologically younger will only consider you older if they grow up with you, because then you've just always been in their life. Otherwise you’ll always be the baby.”

The kid wriggled their way off Boba's lap and padded out to find their buir. Boba had probably rambled on for a bit too long, but he was too swept up in memories to really care. That had been happening too much in those last few days.

* * *

“If Gigi isn't here I'm going to kick something,” Boba proclaimed as he stepped out onto whatever backwater planet it was they were on that time. It wasn’t a very strong threat, but his therapist had told him that threatening lives when upset as a joke wasn't too healthy when he had actually killed bounties over trivial things before. It was annoying, but Boba was making an attempt. 

“I'm sure she'll be around,” Din replied, a hint of amusement in his voice as he noticed Boba's censored threat. “Mylta's keeping her as bait after all. We're probably more likely to run into Gigi than our actual bounty.”

Mylta’s company had a stronger presence on the rocky planet compared to the last one, but not in the area they’d landed in. Their makeshift landing pad seemed to be an abandoned quarry, but it clearly had been abandoned for a long time. The fob declared the pair’s bounty was close though, so Boba couldn't get too worried about the distance from more obvious and recent civilization. Even if he didn't like fobs. 

“Yeah. Okay. We'll find her.” 

The two headed off at a leisurely pace, the fob was pointing to somewhere nearby and it didn't seem like Mylta would pull the same stunt twice. But then Boba realized it wasn’t just the two of them walking out from the ship.

“Hey Din, your kid got out.”

Din glanced at Boba and shrugged. “I didn't really want to leave them behind after how long everything took last time. They'll probably get tired of walking at some point but I can hold my own carrying them, if it comes to that.”

“Ah,” Boba responded awkwardly. He didn't realize Din had just let them out. “Y'know, I was thinking that we should probably meet up more. For like, things other than jobs… I mean, now that you have a kid, I'd like to come back to see them. Y’know.”

“I’m sure they’d like that,” Din replied mildly, “but I think I’d also like to see you again sometime.”

“Right,” Boba replied awkwardly. It seemed like Din was aware of his habit to deflect. “Well it's good we're still on this hunt, you'll get to see plenty of me.”

Din hummed. “That's true… You think we could go get drinks after everything's shipped off to the guild and all that? Celebrate a bit?”

“Alcoholic or nah?” Boba asked with a laugh. You could never tell with Morut’drotenyc Mandos, considering liquid was the only thing they could comfortably consume in public. 

“Whatever you want,” Din answered playfully, “I don't care, as long as we have some fun.”

“Alright,” Boba responded, getting way more excited for that than was necessary. Was Din asking him on a date? Probably not. What actually counted as a date had always eluded Boba, but he liked to pretend. And spending more time with Din seemed good enough. 

Boba's miraculous good mood lasted until they stumbled through the weathered mazes of stone canyons and into a clearing with an old rotting hut sitting in the middle of it. 

“Gigi's in there.” The fob pointed slightly to the right of the building, indicating the bounty was behind the next wall of rock, but Boba knew it when he saw it. 

Din didn't argue at all and Boba kicked down the door. Sure enough, there was Gigi, tied to a chair, gagged and blindfolded. She wasn't struggling at all, she just sat there, defeated. 

Boba quickly got to work on freeing Gigi, ungagging her first before throwing off the blindfold and moving on to the ropes. 

“We- We have to leave now!” Gigi said the moment she could speak again, her words stumbling over each other as they came out. “Go back to your ship and leave the surface, it's gonna blow! Auntie’s got you into a trap!”

Boba faltered as he heard Gigi's words. “Like right now right now? I can carry you in the chair.”

There were tears in Gigi's eyes when she spoke next, she looked terrified. “It's fine, just go!”

“Alright,” Boba replied with a nod. He didn't like leaving Gigi halfway tied up, but he wasn't about to just ignore her warning. He lifted Gigi up, held her against his back, and bolted. Din wasn't far behind, his own kid in his arms. 

“What… type of massive bomb… must your aunt have..?” Din asked as they ran. Boba was wondering the same thing, but apparently having the lighter kid allowed Din to have the breath to ask the question.

“She's been planning this for a while! She decided to kill two birds with one stone. Get you here when it happens and kill you with it. I don't-- I don't think it's really a bomb? I don’t know. We’ll die though.”

As the Razor Crest finally came into view, the ground shook. Boba nearly twisted an ankle as he kept running, but he managed to make it to the ship. As soon as he got in, he sat Gigi down and finished freeing her. 

“I guess we just… own this chair now,” Boba said. The attempt at humor was terrible, but Gigi laughed a bit. 

Din went up into the cockpit the moment he got in the ship, not sparing Boba or Gigi a glance, and soon they were up in the air. Gigi still looked terrified, and so Boba held out his arms, tentatively inviting her into his lap. She fell forwards out of the chair into his arms, eyes wide open and ears flicking around quickly, waiting for something to happen. 

And then it hit. There was a very distant but impossibly loud cracking noise that came from below them, and then a massive boom that penetrated the entire ship. Gigi screamed and Boba clung onto her. The force from the explosion blew the ship away from the surface of the planet much faster than it was going before and the turbulence flung everything around, including Boba. Gigi just kept screaming. 

And then as quickly as it had come, everything stopped. Din managed to stabilize the ship. Distinctly artificial gravity pulled them all back to the floor comfortably. 

“You guys… Might want to see this,” Din called from the cockpit. 

Boba looked down at Gigi. “You want to go see?” he asked quietly.

Gigi shook her head and Boba put her down. “I'll be right back, okay?”

“Okay.”

Boba froze as he saw the view from outside the windows of the cockpit. The planet they had just been on was shattered. Right where they had been standing, there was a large, sloppy chunk of the planet that had presumably just been blown off and shattered. The biggest piece looked to be about the size of a smaller continent, and the shards continued down in size to the small dust particles that floated around the Crest.

“Haar’chak,” Boba swore quietly. “It looks just like Concord Dawn.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> at this point boba's therapist being a reoccurring joke makes me want to introduce them as a legitimate character sometime. don't hold me to that though.
> 
> Mando'a translations:  
> vode- siblings  
> buy'ce- helmet  
> buir- parent  
> bu- "kiddie" version of buir  
> Morut’drotenyc- adjective version of Morut'droten, so of The Tribe/Haven People  
> haar'chak- damn it, damn


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey! so uhh how about that first episode of season two? i'm fucking hyped. this fic of course will still be running only on season one because... there would be SO much i'd have to shuffle around and i am NOT doing that. but hey, i might make a bobin fic based off of season two in the future depending on how things go... so look out for that? no promises though.

Din sat in shock as he looked at the crumbling planet in front of him. He didn't know how to react. 

“My buir was from Concord Dawn,” Boba continued, lost in thought. “He'd tell me stories about how centuries of war finally put so much strain on the planet that it split. This just happened in a second. What kind of pseudo Death Star did this?”

Din shook his head. “All I know is that we aren't being paid enough for this job.”

“There isn't anyone else out here, I'm not even sure how it happened.”

“Must've been something on the planet itself…” Din murmured, trailing off. 

He knew nothing about the planet that he was staring at, didn't even remember its name. Did anyone live in the section that got blasted? All the mining operations had formed a ring around that chunk… maybe they hadn't been mining after all. 

“I'm going to go… Try to get Gigi settled in somewhat.” Boba announced. 

Din just stared out at the planet. “You going to say the gai bal manda?” He asked, half joking.

“Soon,” Boba replied, much more serious than he tended to be. “We'll have to talk about it, of course. She  _ is _ nine.”

Din nodded, and Boba left. It was just him and his kid now, except- no it wasn't. The womp rat ran off. Probably went to meet Gigi properly, most likely. Din knew he should do something about it, but he just sat. His mind reeling over the last hour. Things almost seemed optimistic, for a bit, but then they had almost died. 

Flying out of there and getting hit by the blast had been more terrifying than he'd like to admit. Both of the kids were up screaming when the blast hit, they were only halfway through the atmosphere at that point, and a few massive chunks of rock got close to annihilating the Crest. So Din just sat there. They were definitely not getting paid enough for this bounty. 

“Your kid's having a little sleepover with Gigi, it's pretty cute.”

Din jumped at Boba's voice, he had somehow forgotten he was on his ship. 

“You alright?”

Din sighed and spun a bit in his chair to face Boba. “Yeah, yeah. Just thinking.”

Boba walked towards Din and silently offered his hand to him. Din couldn't if he was offering to help him up or offering some sort of emotional support. When he took the hand, it was swiftly made clear that Boba was attempting to help Din up, and soon he was standing. They were very close to one another, and Din vaguely registered that he was a decent amount taller than Boba. 

They just stood there for a while. Quiet. Din never let go of Boba’s hand, Boba never attempted to stop that. 

And then Boba's helmet bumped into Din’s, just for a split second, like something had put him off balance and he had drifted forwards just slightly. But it clearly wasn't accidental, as subtle as it was, it was an invitation. One just subtle enough that Din could ignore it and they could continue on without ever thinking about it again. 

But Din had only one thought go through his head before he accepted the invitation and rested his forehead on Boba's. 

_ What a day.  _

Boba's breath hitched slightly when his mirshmure’cya was returned, like it was the last thing he expected to happen. It took a few seconds, but soon Din could feel the slight pressure of Boba’s forehead properly returning the kiss. 

Din’s hand slipped out of Boba's and hesitantly traced its way up his back. Boba caught it and gently placed it on his opposite shoulder, and vaguely Din realized that their chestplates had met with a small click of metal on metal. 

The kiss intensified, the pressure between the two increasing and a sort of nuzzling starting between them. Din had never kissed anyone with his lips, and he hadn't done this before either. He was surprised by the level of intimacy they had achieved with a combined half inch of solid metal between their foreheads. 

At some point, Boba started giggling softly. It  _ was _ absurd, they both had nearly escaped a very permanent death and now they were kissing their brains out without a single bit of skin actually touching. Boba's laugh was contagious, and soon they were both giggling like excited teens. Kedable left their mouths free, Din supposed.

Boba's hands made their way up to Din’s buy'ce and he felt a spike of fear in his chest. Boba didn't do anything more than that though, his hands just gently supported them both. Din couldn't help but think back to Omera, who was so gentle with her silent question as she started to lift Din’s helmet off, but so far off from what Din wanted. Din was Mando, Morut'drotenyc, and he would continue to be even if he were to navigate a relationship with someone who was not. Boba seemed to understand, even though he was not of the Tribe. Perhaps most Mando'ade were just more understanding in general, with their own interpretations of the Resol’nare, or maybe Boba was just much too genuine for his own good. 

“What are we?” Boba asked softly once they had both slowed down a bit and were mostly just holding each other. 

Din lifted his head a bit, an unseen frown on his face. “What do you mean?”

“I mean like. What is this. Where do we stand?”

“I think this is called a mirshmure’cya,” Din stated bluntly, “but if you're asking about our relationship, I mean, we're the ones who get to choose, I’m pretty sure.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Boba responded. “I… Mmm. I didn't expect things to get to this so quickly. If at all.”

“We got pretty close to joining the manda,” Din pointed out, “anything could’ve happened. But now that we've sort of bridged the gap I… I wouldn't be against taking things further?”

Boba chuckled quietly. “I'm just… I don't think I'm quite ready for anything too official yet. Like maybe in a month… I don't know. I like you, Din, I really do. Even though we don't see each other much I think about you a lot, between our jobs together. Hunting really isn't the same without you. And I mean, you're hot, so it's not like I'm  _ against  _ the idea but. Y'know.”

“No, I get it,” Din replied, keeping Boba's little compliment to the side to deal with later. “Take your time. I'll be here. I'm just glad we've been able to talk it out, y'know.”

Boba nodded before resting his head on Din’s shoulder. “I wouldn't mind doing this again though.”

“What, the mirshmure'cya makeout session?” Din asked with a quick laugh. “I mean, sure, but at this point I'm not even sure what your definition of making things official is.”

Boba didn't share Din’s playful mood when he replied. “There are some things I need to tell you that I don't think I can right now, for one. And there's part of me that wants to just make sure I can still bail at any moment without ruining anything. I think we're past that point, and I don't think I'd actually do it but…”

“But you need the option?” Din guessed.

“I… yeah, I guess,” Boba sighed. “And I feel like a...  _ Complete _ idiot about this one, because I know for a fact that you wouldn't mind, but I want to be at the point where I'm comfortable with showing my face around you before dating you, or whatever. Which I know is stupid because  _ you _ pretty much have to wait for marriage and I don't really anything tangible holding me back but--”

“It's fine,” Din interrupted, “you're fine. I get it.” Part of him didn't, part of him wanted to just yell and ask why any of Boba's hangups  _ meant _ anything in the long run _ ,  _ but he didn't. Boba had his reasons. 

“Alright, thank you.”

Boba gave Din one last squeeze and then left the embrace, returning to the belly of the Crest. After a few awkward moments of just standing in the cockpit, Din went down as well. To check on the kid, he felt bad that he hadn't been there to put them to sleep. 

Gigi was settled on Boba's makeshift cot, Din’s kid in her arms. Boba was standing over them, about to remove his buy'ce, but then he heard Din coming down. 

“Oh. Hi again, I guess,” Boba greeted, sounding exactly like he'd just been caught doing something he shouldn't've.

“Just checking on the kids,” Din said, obviously avoiding the subject of Boba's buy'ce. They had  _ just _ talked about it.

“Right, yeah. Me too.”

“Y’know, if I would’ve known that the 50 year old that imperial remnant was asking for was actually an adorable little kid, I might’ve actually taken the bounty. And then done what you did, obviously.”

“You were offered the job too?”

Boba shrugged. “I'm not hard to contact, and they really were throwing everything at getting your kid. By the time you got ahold of them the remnant was practically begging me to go after you.”

Din was weirdly flattered by the fact that Boba wasn't ever one of the hunters that went after him and his kid. “Well I'm glad you refused, things would've definitely gone differently if someone as competent as you was chasing me.”

“Well thank you!” Boba replied cheekily. “They had… A lot of beskar to offer. Honestly, if I actually knew any alor’gorane to work it, I'm not sure if I would've refused. I mean, look at you. You've practically got a whole new set of beskar’gam out of it!”

Din shrugged awkwardly. “Yeah, I did. And then I stole the kid back. Apparently they still had purge beskar to lure in Mandos and hire hunters with though, so.”

“They were probably looking for a Mando from the start, not sure why they expected the kid to be brought over without delay due to adoption.” Boba mused quietly. “They have purge beskar, enough stormtroopers to clean out a covert, what else do they have? The New Republic sure has some work to do if they really want to claim that the Empire is over. Not that they will.”

Din stood silently for a bit, slowly digesting all of what Boba was saying. 

“Wait-- you heard about what happened to my covert?”

Boba visibly flinched at that. “I-- yeah. I kept a close watch on that whole thing, especially when it was clear you were the one they ended up going after. I'm sorry, I just had no idea how to even begin to address it.”

“It's alright,” Din said. And it was. “I'm not sure I even know how I would've liked to find out you knew. And I was there during the Great Purge. It's fine.”

Boba looked at Din for a good amount of time, like he wanted to argue. Then he turned away and started to speak.

“The Great Purge happened when I was in the sarlacc,” Boba began, “it feels weirdly poetic. I hate it. Since I didn’t have anything to lose in the purge..? I guess I just got to be digested for a bit.”

“What about your vode?” Din asked quietly.

Boba shrugged. “They’ve always been hiding from the empire. And it’s not like they have any beskar. So I guess no one bothered, no one knew.”

“I-” Din stopped himself before he could even speak. Boba didn’t need to hear it, he hadn’t even been around for the purge. “Yeah.”

“Can’t imagine how bad it must’ve been for you,” Boba said softly. “That and this more recent thing with the covert. Sorry for bringing it up.”

And then Boba got up and went into the cockpit, really the only place he could go to get away from the conversation. Din sighed. The only real thing they had to do was talk, he supposed, but usually they didn’t talk about such heavy things. It was a heavy time though, so maybe that was it.

“Hey Din?”

Din looked up. Boba hadn’t lasted even 10 seconds up there.

“I think you might want to install some portholes down here. Because the New Republic has been here for who knows how long now, and they don’t look happy to see us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> communication is sexy. even if no one knows how exactly they feel.
> 
> Mando'a translations:  
> gai bal manda- mandalorian adoption ritual  
> mirshmure’cya- Keldabe kiss - slang for headbutt (lit. brain-kiss), usually used for the affectionate version, as opposed to kov'nyn  
> Morut’drotenyc- adjective version of Morut'droten, so of The Tribe/Haven People  
> Mando'ade- Mandalorians  
> Resol’nare- Six Actions, the tenets of Mando life  
> manda- the collective soul or heaven - the state of being Mandalorian in mind, body and spirit - also supreme, overarching, guardian-like (first meaning in this context)  
> alor’gorane- metalworkers that specifically work with beskar, as they are the most skilled. The Armorer is an alor'goran.  
> beskar'gam- armor  
> vode- siblings


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> season 2 bobin fic is 100% on its way and coming now that the season's over so look out for that! still going to try to wrap this one up in the next few chapters but if it ends up feeling a bit rushed? i think u all will know why.

Boba had now lived through the rise of two galactic powers and the death of another two. It could be argued that calling the New Republic a galactic power could be stretching it though, seeing as the Hutts had always just been considered a nuisance despite their large swathes of territory. The New Republic had Coruscant though, so that meant it was of the same breed as the Empire and Republic before it. 

The point was, Boba didn't have much hope in the New Republic considering its predecessors, and the job he was currently on didn't help that much.

The Republic cruiser’s transmission request finally pinged in while Din climbed back up into the cockpit. Boba answered it, obviously, because he was closer.

_ “Razor Crest, we're going to have to take you in for questioning. Our landing bay is open, but we do have a tractor if you resist.” _

Boba sighed silently. “You mind telling me why?”

_ “Yours is the only craft anywhere near this planet that just blew up, so forgive us for thinking you're suspicious.” _

So Mylta was still down there. Boba quietly wondered if she somehow messed with the fob in order to lead them towards Gigi instead of wherever she was. It didn't really matter now. 

“You think this thing has the firepower to do  _ that?”  _ Boba asked, playing up his incredulity. They wouldn't buy it, but he'd play as many angles as he could. “We barely escaped with our lives!”

_ “It's just a precaution, if you don't have anything, you don't have to worry” _

Boba sighed and closed the transmission. He was so tired, and that was not helping. 

“You handled that better than I would've,” Din commented, probably trying to be reassuring. 

Boba shrugged. “Didn't try too hard. Feels inevitable at this point.”

“We could run,” Din suggested. 

Boba just shook his head. “Nah. They hired us, they're going to have to deal with us. Besides, I have connections. They'll probably try to seem nice just long enough for me to pull enough strings to get us out of their grasp. And out of this haranyc job if we're lucky.”

“I hope your contact pulls through,” Din muttered, “because I know the one I was thinking of probably won't.”

The Crest lurched as a tractor beam started pulling them in and Boba's confidence crumbled a bit when he remembered it wasn't just him and Din on the ship. The New Republic wouldn't be too bad to a couple of children, right? With them trying to be the good guys and all?

* * *

They were arrested immediately, of course. Boba had been wanted by the New Republic ever since its inception and apparently Din had run into trouble with them about half a year before. Which was just great. They also apparently had a few weapons on them that were banned in New Republic sectors, which seemed a bit unfair because he couldn't remember anyone ever telling him about that. 

Boba never got to see what they did with the kids. He was just herded off with Din. He wished he had had a chance to properly adopt Gigi before they got separated yet again. Maybe it just wasn't time yet. 

Boba didn't have time to think too much about it though, because he had just been told to strip- sorry. Take off all his armor. 

Boba slowly took off his vambraces. Din couldn't fully comply, so Boba tried to go along with it all the best he could, despite how much he hated it. He had the smallest inkling of a plan, because…

“I can't. Take off my helmet,” Din muttered eventually.

The guard who told them to remove their armor huffed. “Is it broken or something, c’mon! Your buddy seems to be doing fine.”

Boba froze in the middle of lifting his buy'ce off. 

“It goes against my religion, the Way. We're both Mandalorian but he is not Morut’la, so he can remove his helmet in the presence of others. I can't. Many cultures and religions around the galaxy have similar customs.”

“Well I'm all about being respectful and all that, but I've never heard of a Mando not taking off their helmet. What I  _ have  _ heard about are the crazy custom HUDs that those buckets can come with, and that's what we're worried about. If you refuse to take it off yourself, we'll do it.”

“Or!” Boba exclaimed, shoving his buy'ce in the guard’s hands, “I can show you how to shut off the HUD yourself without needing to remove his helmet. Using mine as an example.”

Boba could feel Din giving him a look of betrayal, but he ignored it. This would be better than the alternative, even if it meant that a random aruetiise New Republic guard now knew how to disable a Mando's HUD. 

The guard sighed. “If you're so insistent on doing all this I guess he must be telling the truth. Show me how this all works.”

Boba showed him the emergency shutdown buttons right on the edge of the inside of his helmet and even let the guard put the thing on to confirm that the HUD had been shut down. Then he went over and turned off Din’s. 

Then they started walking again. 

Din was very obviously trying not to look at Boba's now bare face as they went along. It was kind of heartwarming, if not unnecessary. Fate seemed to want Boba to be a bit more vulnerable a bit sooner than he'd wanted to. Which… Fine. He’d lost at that one. He didn't know how to communicate that, though it was sweet that Din was trying, it was ultimately an unnecessary effort because Boba had accepted at that point that he would be seen. At least while being walked to a cell by a guard he didn't know how to communicate it. Once they were locked up and left alone, Boba just told him out loud with his words. 

“Right, sorry,” Din replied awkwardly. It was strange to hear him without the vocoder, but not bad. 

Boba tried to wave him off, but then he remembered they had been handcuffed at some point. He sighed instead.

“I can barely see anything now that everything's off in my buy'ce,” Din sighed back. Buy'cese tended to have enhanced fields of vision, the visor was more for show and emergency than anything else. Unfortunately, it was what Din was stuck with.

”Well maybe I should've just tried to convince everyone to close their eyes and pinkie promise not to open them while your terrible, low visibility helmet was off.”

“I have a kut’buyce in the Razor Crest, you know.”

Boba huffed. “I don't think either of us expected the threat of your bucket getting forced off. I saved your shebs.”

“...I know,” Din conceited. “I just can't believe I've been given permission to appreciate your beautiful face and I can't even see it properly. With a kut’buyce I'd get a wonderful view.”

So this was proper Din flirting. Boba took a mental note. He didn't like thinking about his face. Looking at his face. It was better on everyone else that had it anyways. But still, the idea that Din  _ liked _ it made his stomach flip in much better ways than usual. 

“This is one of the better jail cells I've been in,” Boba remarked, changing the topic so he wouldn't explode. 

“I don’t think it's supposed to be one.” 

And yeah, the more Boba actually started paying attention to his surroundings, the space did seem like a stripped guest room their captors had put a ray field in front of last minute. They even got a separate ‘fresher with a sonic and everything. 

The room didn't really have many comforts though, just angles and a thin cot that would only be able to fit one of them. Even if they squeezed in and started cuddling or something. Boba sighed and sat down on the hard ground. 

Din was quick to follow, sitting right next to Boba, and it didn't take long for Boba's head to wind up resting on Din’s shoulder. Or for Din’s cuffed hands to make their way onto Boba's lap. Or for them both to start holding onto each other a bit desperately as they sat, waiting.

* * *

“One of your braids got unpinned,” Din suddenly said after what felt like an eternity of silence. 

Boba swore and instinctively tried to pin it back, remembering too late that his hands were bound in front of him. 

“...You want me to pin it back for you?” Din asked slowly. 

Boba sighed. “I don't think I'm getting my buy'ce back anytime soon. You might as well just take out the braids entirely, they're a bit tight.”

Din didn't respond for a good thirty seconds. 

“Boba, I think we're probably at the point where we can be honest about when we just want physical affection. Not that I'm saying no to undoing your braids, but.” 

Boba felt his face burn. That hadn't really been on his mind when he asked, well… Okay, maybe he had been thinking about how nice it would be for Din’s fingers to run through his hair, but it wasn't his  _ primary  _ thought. 

Din chuckled softly and Boba shot him a spiteful glance over his shoulder. 

“You want me to take off my gloves?” Din asked cheekily.

_ “Please _ shut up.”

“I'll take that as a yes,” Din replied, smile clear in his voice. Boba couldn't bring himself to argue. 

Din’s hands were clumsy, and considering the situation, Boba wasn't surprised. There was only so much one could do with cuffed hands. But it was nice, methodical, and slowly Boba's long curls were let loose. 

“You have a lot of hair,” Din murmured. “It's nice.”

Boba hummed. “I work to keep it healthy. ‘S something I can take pride in.”

“How many people get to actually see it though?”

Boba smiled a rueful smile Din couldn't even see. “It's mostly just for me.” To distract from my face, he didn't say. 

Din paused for a split second, and then continued as he spoke. “If we got married right now-”

Boba spun around to face Din, his hair getting pulled along the way. “What??”

Din laughed. The bastard. “ _ If we got married right now, _ and then got divorced when all this is over, I could take off my buy'ce, and then we could-”

“Fuck?”

“I'm never speaking to you again.”

Boba turned back around, maybe a bit too smug about that. “Right, I forgot. We can do that with your buy'ce on.”

Din didn't say anything.

“Wait, are you actually giving me the silent treatment right now?”

Din shrugged and Boba sighed.  _ “Fine,  _ if we got married right now you could take off your buy'ce and we could make out with SO much tongue.”

“Boba Arla Mereel Fett, I don't know why I associate with you.”

“That's an easy one!” Boba laughed, “You love me.”

Din froze and Boba realized he might've taken the teasing a bit too far. 

“Love you too,” Din replied, letting out a held breath.

Boba relaxed and Din continued undoing his braids. It was… Conflicting, the situation the two were in. Boba wasn't all too happy about being rushed into things again, but it had worked out anyways. Again. He felt like a bit of an idiot for setting up boundaries only a few hours before that got smashed almost immediately, not that it was the fault of either of them. 

And now they were acting like complete lovebirds to cope with the fact that their children and armor had been taken from them right before they got locked up. Or at least Boba was acting like a lovebird to cope and then projected that onto Din… Or maybe Boba was just saying the first things that came to his mind to distract himself from everything, and all of those first things just happened to be romantic.

And then Boba's thoughts turned to Gigi, of course. He wondered if Din was thinking about his own kid. Maybe those two were together too, thinking about their parents. Maybe they were wreaking a bit of havoc. The thought brought a smile to Boba's face. 

Hopefully it would all be very temporary, he  _ did  _ have a contact. It was all so ironic. Getting captured by the client in the middle of the job for… Being accused of being the bounty. The Empire had been a mess, but at least  _ this  _ had never happened. If Boba were simply the heartless bounty hunter that was somewhat expected of him, he'd think the Empire was much better. But the New Republic had a few less genocides to account for, so he had to admit they were at least  _ better.  _

Thoughts of the Republic and the Empire and the Republic again swirled ‘round Boba's mind for long enough that he started to bore himself to sleep, but then the door opened.

“Boba Fett? Your interrogation is first.”

Boba yawned and got up, gently lifting Din’s arm off his shoulder. He had fallen asleep, apparently. Boba hadn't even noticed.

The New Republic really did tend to make things harder for themselves. They were about to attempt to interrogate incredibly grumpy, half asleep Boba Fett. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ohh to be forced to cuddle with your not-boyfriend for a bit and try to ignore the fact you've been arrested by the new republic.
> 
> Mando'a translations:  
> haranyc- hellish  
> buy'ce (buy'cese pl.)- helmet  
> Morutla- adjective version of Morut'droten, so of The Tribe/Haven People (I switched up the spelling to make it less of a mouthful)  
> aruetiise- outsiders, people who are not Mandalorian  
> kut'buyce- "cloth helmet," a head covering that covers the face  
> shebs- ass

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me on tumblr at [transfetts](https://transfetts.tumblr.com/) to watch me yell about many things. keep leaving comments i love u all.


End file.
